


Aperture

by arcadianpetriedish



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Photography, Memories, Photography, Post-Episode: s07e22 Requiem, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadianpetriedish/pseuds/arcadianpetriedish
Summary: How did the framed photo of Mulder and Scully end up over the bookcase in their office?





	

  Scully rubbed her fingertip absentmindedly across the top of the nameplate on Mulder’s desk.  Her eyes, unfocused, stared at the spot on the wall over the bookcase until everything went blurry.

\---

  “Check it out, Scully!  We made the paper!”

  Mulder entered the basement office and strode over to Scully with the _Washington Post_ in one hand and a to-go container holding two cups of coffee in the other.  He was never one to quietly enter the office; his presence always demanded an entrance.

  “We did?” Scully asked as she took the coffee cup from the right side of the container and took a sip.  She never had to ask which was hers; hers was always the one on the right, just like her side of the bed.

  Mulder set the container holding his coffee down on the desk and flipped through the paper until he found what he wanted.  He folded it back and proudly presented it to Scully.  The photo was of the two of them, taken from behind during a recent raid.  Their stance meant business, and the large “FBI” on the back of their jackets screamed off of the page.  The caption didn’t mention their names, just “FBI agents prepare to execute a search warrant during a raid of the residence of suspected murderer Robert Jim Clancy.”  The accompanying article was about the raid, going on to detail some of Clancy’s suspected crimes, including the murder of college student Meghan Nichols, whose body was recently discovered abandoned in a seedy area of Baltimore.

  Scully smiled at the picture, noticing the glaringly obviousness of their height differences.

  “You’re so tall,” she murmured, passing the paper back to Mulder.  He smiled as he took it from her.

  “It’s all perspective, Scully,” he replied as he opened a desk drawer and began rummaging through it, finally unearthing a pair of scissors.  He carefully cut out the photo and tacked it to the bulletin board.

  Scully made sure to pick up two copies of the paper on the way home: one for her, and one for her mother.

  Mulder beat her to work that Friday morning.  His back was to Scully as he futzed with something on top of the tall bookcase near his desk.

  Scully approached him, but due to her height disadvantage, she couldn’t see what he was doing; all she saw were shoulders and arms.  Not that that was necessarily a _bad_ view.  Scully loved Mulder’s arms.  Tanned and strong, his arms could carry her like she was weightless.  She shook her head and brushed away memories of what those arms, and particularly the hands attached to the ends of them could do to her.  She scolded herself for getting sidetracked at work, especially so early in the day.

  Mulder was too engrossed in his project to hear Scully come in or to realize that she stood right behind him.  He jumped, clearly startled, when Scully traced a finger down the back of his white dress shirt and murmured good morning to him.

  He turned to face her, his grin stretched wide across his face.

  “Well, good morning to you, too, you little ninja.  I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Scully shrugged.  “I just got here, actually.  What have you got going on over there?”

  “Go sit down!  You can’t see yet; I’m not finished,” Mulder said defensively, literally shooing her away with a swish of his hands.

  Scully’s eyebrow reached for the heavens.  “Mulder.  Tell me you did not just _shoo_ me,” she said flatly.

  Mulder gave her his best abashed look.  His lower lip even poked out in a little pout.

  “Sorry.  I just got excited.  I do want to make sure it’s right before you see it, though.”

  “It’s okay.  I have some files on the Meghan Nichols case I need to review, so I’ll be over at my des— er, in my _area_ ,” she replied.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was buried in forensic evidence reports when Mulder broke her concentration.

  “Okay, Scully,” he said.  “You can come see it now.”

  She walked back over to the bookcase, where Mulder still stood, blocking her view.  She arched a tiny eyebrow at him.  _Let’s get on with it._

  Mulder stepped to the side so Scully could get a look at his handiwork.  Her eyes widened in surprise.

  Centered perfectly above the bookcase was the photo of them from the newspaper earlier in the week.  This one was in color, though, _and_ framed.

  “Mulder, where did you _get_ that?  The one in the paper was black and white…  And you had it framed?” 

  Scully protested because that’s what she did, but deep down, she didn’t even have words for how completely adorable she found the whole thing.  Mulder just looked so _proud._

  “You like it?” he asked.  “I found out that the _Post_ sells reprints of their photos, so I had them make one of us.”

  Scully lowered her eyes and smiled.  “I love it, actually,” she softly replied.  “I wonder what Skinner will think when he sees it, though.”

  “He’ll be jealous it wasn’t him,” Mulder said with a smirk.  His tone turned serious.  “Besides, we’ve been partners for almost seven years, and this is one of maybe _three_ photos I’ve seen of us together?  We should change that, especially now that we’re _partner_ -partners.”

  Scully blushed.  “ _Partner_ -partners.  That’s a new one.”  She narrowed her eyes, thinking of the type of photographs he seemed to prefer.  “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “No cheesy Glamour Shots or anything like that,” he chuckled.  “Just…  I don’t know?  Pictures.  Like people put up on their walls.”

  Scully was sure Mulder grew up with yearly family portrait sessions.  She’d bet money that at least one of them involved the family sitting posed on a bed of fall leaves, everyone wearing matching jeans and sweaters.  There was probably a dog, too.  She smiled at the thought, but it faded when she wondered if the Mulders even bothered with family portraits after Samantha was gone.  It occurred to her that they probably hadn’t.  _She_ was his family now; of course she would do it.

  “I’m… not _opposed_ to the idea,” she slowly replied.  “As long as they’re tasteful.”

  “Totally above-board, Scully.  Scout’s honor,” he said, his hand lifted in oath.  “But, Scully, if you ever had a whim to do one of those sexy boudoir shoots, I promise I would not stand in your way,” he finished with a grin.

  Scully rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “I think it’s time to get back to work.”

\---

  The photographer they chose was booked almost solid, but they managed to secure a spot in Virginia Beach in the early spring.  They decided the weekend would be a mini-getaway.  A weekend at the beach, together as a couple; a _real_ hotel instead of their usual motor lodge travels.

  The photographer, Michelle Taylor, sent them a questionnaire a month before their appointment.  It was a set of “get to know you” questions to help her come up with ideas for the shoot.  They’d decided that it would be heavily contrasted black and white, shot in her studio.  She told them she was going for a film noir approach, and to dress appropriately.  Mulder and Scully were also instructed to bring some fun clothes for a smaller set before the main shoot.

  By the time their getaway approached, they both desperately needed some time away from the FBI.  Mulder, especially.  He’d had a hard winter, losing his mother and finally discovering the truth about his sister.  Scully intended to make sure Mulder enjoyed every minute of their trip.  They somehow made it to Virginia Beach without a last-minute X-File popping up to ruin their plans.  Mulder said it was a sign of good things to come.

  The studio was nothing like they’d expected; it wasn’t wedged between a shoe store and an insurance office in some strip mall, it was a grand old house.  Mulder parked the rental car and exchanged a look with Scully before exiting the car and retrieving an armload of garment bags.

  Scully was somewhat nervous about everything.  When Mulder first suggested photos, she imagined something along the lines of the Sears portraits of her childhood.  This studio was on a different level entirely; they even featured an on-site hair stylist and makeup artist.  Scully just hoped they didn’t go overboard with her.

  Michelle Taylor met them at the door.  The photographer was younger than either Mulder or Scully had expected, but glancing at the galleries on the walls, they could see that she was exceptionally talented.

  Mulder trusted Scully’s judgment on the style of the main shoot, while Scully was naturally terrified of Mulder’s control of the fun outfits.   _Outfits…Costumes?_   As she sat in the stylist’s chair, she could only pray that no aliens would be involved.

  Satisfied with her hair and makeup, it was time for Scully to find out how “fun” the fun shoot would be.  Mulder never divulged the details to her, so she only had his word that he thought she would love what he chose for her.  The stylist carried over a zipped black garment bag and pointed Scully to the dressing room.  There was a card pinned to the bag.  Mulder’s handwriting was on the envelope:   **SCULLY FUN!**   She smiled and opened the card.

 

 

_Scully,_

_I know you’re probably terrified of what this bag might contain, but I hope you’re pleasantly surprised.  I thought we could recreate one of our fun times; I know it was one of the most spectacular times we shared, at least in my opinion.  Go ahead and open the bag._

_XO,_   
_Mulder_

_P.S.  Don’t forget – it’s hips before hands!_

   

   Scully softly gasped at the postscript.  That night was the most fun she’d had with Mulder, too.  She quickly unzipped the garment bag and discovered that it contained her very own Roswell Grays baseball jersey, complete with a long-sleeved grey undershirt.  Flipping it around, he’d had her name embroidered across the back of the jersey, along with the number one.

    Scully carefully changed into the baseball outfit, careful not to mess up her hair or makeup.  She looked so young, but the jersey was adorable on her.  It was cream with grey letters, which made the blue of her eyes even more intense.  She paired it with jeans and thought the finished outfit _was_ fun.  _Nice job, Mulder,_ she thought.  She still had a feeling he was going to call her “Short Stop” at some point. 

  Scully walked out of the dressing room, and the stylist cooed over her look, while smoothing down a couple of hairs that were knocked out of place.

  “Ms. Scully?  Are you almost ready in there?” called Michelle Taylor, from another part of the studio. 

  “I’m on the way!”

  Mulder was already in the studio with Michelle when Scully arrived.  He was also wearing jeans and a jersey.  His was grey, with a cream undershirt.  He stood in front of a black backdrop, surrounded by studio lights.  There was a baseball diamond at his feet, and a bat in his hand.  Scully’s memory of that night flooded her head as she broke into a content smile.  Mulder looked up and saw her there, his eyes widened and his mouth curved into an open-mouthed grin.

  “That looks even better than I ever imagined!  Scully, you are _adorable_ ,” Mulder said, completely smitten.  “Did I do okay?”

  She walked up to him and squeezed his hand, placing a tiny kiss on his knuckle.  “I love it, Mulder.  I really do.  That night was one of my best fun nights, too.”  Mulder audibly exhaled in relief.  Scully continued, “Why is your jersey grey?”

  His answer was earnest: “I’m the visitor; _you’re_ home.”

  Scully caught the double meaning.  She felt as if her heart could explode.

  Michelle Taylor reminded them that there was work to do.

  “Play ball!”

\--

  Scully was surprised at how much fun she was having at the shoot, and not just because Mulder had molded his body around hers like a coat.  He pretended to show her how to swing as Michelle snapped numerous photos.  She had an idea.

  “Time out, guys!  Let’s do this: Get in batting position and pause.  I want both of you to look at the ground and close your eyes.  On the count of three, look up at him and open your eyes.  Mr. Mulder, same idea.  Open your eyes and look at her on three.  Ready?”  Mulder and Scully nodded, then looked at the ground, eyes closed.

  “One…  Two…”  Michelle waited an extra beat.  “Three!”

_Click-click-click_

  “PERFECT!  You two are naturals.  I think you’re going to love these.  No, I _know_ you will,” Michelle confidently stated.  “Okay, you two.  Back to your corners.  Let’s get you both fancied up for the next set.  I expect you back in thirty minutes, forty-five _tops_.”

  “Yes, _ma’am_ ,” Mulder replied with a nod, as he and Scully retreated to their dressing rooms.

  Thirty-to-forty-five minutes passed quickly.  Her makeup was completely different from the fun shoot, as was her hair.  She thought she looked like she was from another time.  Her makeup _was_ heavier, especially around her eyes; it was very dramatic with the blue of her irises.  The long, slinky black dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right places.  She was not used to seeing herself like that, but she felt sexy, which upped her confidence tenfold.  She walked with a little extra swing in her hips as she sauntered back out to the studio.  Mulder was coming through the other door around the same time, and Scully’s breath was knocked completely from her body when she saw him.  He looked like a movie star; one who happened to be drop dead gorgeous.  She’d never realized how much so until she saw him dressed to the nines in his black suit and tie.  Scully could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and she could not wait to get back to their hotel.  She wondered how she’d gotten so lucky.

  Mulder had a similar reaction when he saw Scully’s vintage noir look.  She looked like she was straight out of the Golden Age of Hollywood.  His mouth slightly parted as he began to shallowly breathe, hoping his body would not embarrass him with the physical reaction he was trying like hell to suppress.  It was still hard for him to believe sometimes that the stunningly beautiful woman in front of him loved him.  He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky.

  Michelle let out a low breath when she walked into the room.  “Well…  Don’t _you_ two clean up nice?  You look so dapper, Mr. Mulder.  Ms. Scully, you look timeless.  Follow me; our next set is this way.”

  They followed Michelle into what was probably once a living room in the old house.  It was set up like a vintage sitting area from the ‘30s or ‘40s.  A beautiful chaise lounge sat in the middle of the room, under a chandelier.  The room just screamed wealth and luxury.  Michelle had Scully arrange herself on the chaise.  Mulder impulsively considered tapping into his estate and making this scene into their reality.  He grinned and could practically hear Scully calling him nuts at the idea.  Michelle called him over and had him stand to the side of the chaise, almost regally.  She took several photos, then began switching them into different poses.  She somehow produced a long cigarette holder and Mulder lit it for Scully as Michelle continued to shoot.  She took them back to the original studio with the black backdrop for some close-ups.  Once she was finished, she told them she was extremely excited about everything they shot and she’d get to work on them immediately.

  “One more thing,” Michelle said.  “I sometimes do a bonus for my favorite clients, and you two definitely rocketed up the list.  You’re staying near the beach, right?”  Scully nodded.  “Wonderful.  Could you two meet me there at 5:30 in the morning?”  Two sets of eyebrows shot up.  Michelle laughed.  “You don’t _have_ to do it, but I have this image in my head that I need to make happen, ever since I met you.  It won’t take too long.  Just until right after the sun rises.  Wear shorts or bathing suits, or just anything above the knee.  Your feet might get wet, and it will definitely be cool, so don’t forget to bring a cover-up, too,” she warned.

  Mulder looked at Scully, knowing it came down to what she wanted.  She almost looked star struck.

  “I think that would be wonderful,” she confirmed.

  Mulder loved seeing Scully let down her guard enough to allow herself to be visibly happy.  Sometimes, she appeared to have an almost childlike excitement shining in her eyes.  Scully’s tears could break him, but her unabashed joy gave him life.

  Their mini-vacation had been a wonderful idea, and Mulder couldn’t wait to see the photos from their session.  The last shots Michelle took of them as the sun rose on the beach had been on Mulder’s mind for the rest of the trip.  They were just a regular couple on vacation; no aliens, no conspiracies, nothing but himself and the woman he loved.  More and more, he’d begun to realize that maybe it _was_ time to finally stop the car.  He wanted to talk to Scully about it, but not just yet.  Soon.

  As luck would have it, a week after Mulder and Scully returned to DC, they were off to LA for the premiere of _The Lazarus Bowl_.  It was too bad that the movie was so terrible, but at least the “Skinman” let them run wild with a Bureau credit card.  Once the bean counters discovered the grand total of the post-show shenanigans, Mulder was fairly sure they’d never have an opportunity like that again.

   Two weeks later, Scully came home to a note from her landlord, informing her that he’d signed for a delivery, and she could pick it up that night, if she wanted.  She called and said she was on her way over, if he didn’t mind.  She thought she had a good idea of what it was.  After exchanging pleasantries with her landlord, she discovered she was right.  Once the photo session had concluded, Michelle told her that they would receive a few edits and the proofs from the set in 4-5 weeks, and she was right on schedule.  She squeaked like a kid at Christmas when her landlord brought out the sleek grey box.  Thanking him profusely for keeping it for her, she politely turned down his offer of tea, and tried not to sprint back to her apartment.

  She was getting ready to dive into the box when her conscience sternly reminded her whose idea this photo shoot had been in the first place, and maybe she should wait for him so they could see them together.  She put the box out of her sight, so she wouldn’t be tempted to take a little peek.  She pulled out her cell phone and held down #1 on her speed dial.

  “Mulder.”

  “Mulder, it’s me.  Are you busy?”

  “For you, Scully?  Never.  What’s up?”

  “Come over as soon as you can?”

  Mulder instantly went full-alert.

  “Is everything okay, Scully??  What’s happening?  Do I need—…”

  She cut him off before he got too frantic.

  “ _Mulder_.  Stop.  I’m fine.  I just need you to come over as soon as you can before I spoil the surprise.”

  Mulder’s mind naturally took that in many ways Scully never intended.  Until later, maybe.

  “Is it a _good_ surprise, Scully?” he asked in the low voice that never failed to send a shiver down Scully’s spine.

  “I hope so,” she replied.  “We got the proofs back from the photographer.  I had to hide the box from myself to keep from opening it, because it’s only right that you be here, too.”

  “Aw, Scully.  I can’t wait to see them--.”

  She stepped on his words again.

  “…But the longer you aren’t here, the more my willpower dissolves.”

  Mulder laughed at her excitement.  He was excited, too.

  “Should I bring food?” he asked.

  “You know the place.  Get my usual?”

  “Be there in twenty,” Mulder replied, clicking off the call.

\---

  By the time he arrived with their food, Scully’s face was the tiniest bit flushed from the wine she’d had while she waited on Mulder.  She’d changed from her work clothes into a simple scoop neck grey sweater and black pants.  Mulder’s hands were full, so he’d knocked.  She opened the door and leaned against it.

  In a quiet, happy voice, she smiled and said, “You’re here!”

  Mulder hummed his approval of all things Scully as he leaned in to kiss her hello.

  “Should we eat first and then do the pictures, or go through them while we eat?” he asked.

  Scully squinted her eyes and tilted her head to the side as she looked at him.

  “And get grease all over them?  I’d rather not.  Let’s eat,” she replied, then headed back into the kitchen for another glass of wine.  She returned with one for Mulder, too.

  They enjoyed the wine, the takeout, and each other’s company.  There was less conversation over dinner than usual, but Mulder assumed Scully was doing her best to speed up; she was a slow eater by nature, and Mulder was usually long finished with his own meal by the time Scully caught up with him.  He thought her effort was both adorable _and_ admirable.

  Halfway through with her food, she put down her fork and carried the leftovers to the fridge.  Her willpower was gone, and she’d had enough wine to remember exactly how delectable Mulder looked for their vintage photo shoot.  Her pulse was already fluttering, just thinking about it.  She instructed Mulder to go wash his hands while she got the box. 

  Mulder was waiting on the couch when she triumphantly returned with the grey box from the photography studio.

  “You ready?” she asked.  Her eyes gleamed with enthusiasm.  Mulder nodded, happy to let her run the show.

  Scully opened the box and discovered the contents were wrapped with cream tissue paper.  Folding it back, she found a smaller box bound with grey ribbon.  A cream-colored envelope was tucked under the ribbon.  She removed it and read the note aloud. 

 

  

_Ms. Scully & Mr. Mulder –_

_I hope you love these as much as I do.  I absolutely enjoyed the time we had together, and I hope you’ll choose to visit me again in the future.  Please give me a call and let me know what you think of them, and which proofs you’d like to order as prints, or if you’d like an album.  Again, it was a pleasure meeting you both.  You’re a beautiful couple, and I wish you the best, always!_

_Speak to you soon!_

_~ Michelle Taylor_

 

  “This already feels fancy,” Scully said.  Mulder just smiled.

  Scully carefully opened the box and removed two opaque photo folders, one labeled “Batter Up!”, the other labeled “Here’s Lookin’ at You”.  Decisions.  She held them both up for Mulder, letting him choose.

  “Batter up, Scully!  Let’s see ‘em,” Mulder replied.

  Scully opened the folder and pulled out the bundle, covered in more tissue paper, held together with a small grey ribbon.  She scooted closer to Mulder on the couch, untied the ribbon, and removed the paper.

  They softly gasped in unison.

  They saw each other every day, but they’d never seen themselves like this, how _others_ see them.  They were radiant, happy, and clearly smitten.  The first photo was the one where Michelle had them close their eyes before looking at each other; she really knew what she was doing with that.  Their smiles were natural and wide, and Scully was leaning slightly backwards into Mulder’s chest as she looked at him with as much adoration as Mulder was giving her in return.

  Mulder bit his lower lip and cast his eyes towards her.

  “This is _us_ , Scully,” he said in a soft, somewhat awed voice.

  “Yeah,” she whispered, equally awed.  “And that’s just the first one.”

  They slowly went through the stack of 5x7 photos, laughing at some, _aww_ -ing at others.

  “Mulder,” Scully said, peering closely at one photo, “Is your hand on my ass?”

  Mulder chuckled.  “Probably,” he admitted.

  They finished the stack, voting each one as a keeper.  They couldn’t bear to say no to any of them.

  Scully carefully returned the prints to their folder and placed it to the side.  Her eyes were wide with anticipation for the other set of photos.  Mulder was already leaning forward.

  Scully removed the tissue paper from the set of photos, and they both sat speechless, mouths slightly ajar.  “You look like a movie star,” she whispered.  The black and white photos really stood out with the metallic finish on the paper Michelle had chosen for the prints.  It gave the photos a silver screen feel, and they looked like Hollywood royalty.  Scully was arranged regally on the chaise lounge, looking solemnly at the camera.  Her left elbow perched gently on the armrest close to where Mulder’s right hand was placed as he leaned in towards her just a bit, his left leg straight, and his right foot crossed in front, the toe of his shoe on the floor.  His face was mostly facing the camera, but his eyes were focused on Scully.  She’d chosen a diamond pendant necklace to temporarily replace her gold cross during the shoot, finding it looked rather convincing for costume jewelry.  She had no idea that it was real, and that when Mulder saw how much she liked it, he later emailed Michelle and had her order it to ship to Scully at Christmas.

  “Could you imagine actually _living_ like this?” Scully asked.

  “Do you want to?  We could, you know.”

  Mulder’s reply took her by surprise; it was so casual, it was almost as if he were being serious. 

  The photos of them as a vintage couple were stunning, but Michelle also shot them both individually, and a single tear escaped from Scully’s eye as she came across a pose of her alone, confidently fixing the camera with a look that was one part “come hither” -- mixed with a generous dose of “I dare you to try.”  It radiated Scully’s natural strong, poised beauty, and that was the first time Scully truly saw what she’d always shrugged off when someone, even Mulder, told her that she was beautiful.

  Mulder noticed how she softly inhaled as she first saw it, watched her look at it almost curiously, as if she first didn’t believe that could be her.

  “I can feel you thinking,” he said quietly.  “And yes, that _is_ you.  That’s how I see you every day.  You’re radiant, Scully.  You are powerful and strong and impossibly beautiful, inside and out.”  Scully looked touched.  “Even if you sometimes drool when you sleep,” he finished with a grin.

  Scully gasped.  “Mulder!  I do not!”

  Mulder laughed deep in his chest.  “Okay.” 

  Scully looked at the next photo.  It was a head and shoulders shot of Mulder.  “Speaking of drooling…”

  Mulder shot her a look, wanting to see for himself.  “I guess I clean up okay sometimes,” he said with a shrug, secretly loving the effect it was obviously having on Scully.

  “Um, Mulder?  It’s getting warm in here,” Scully admitted, shyly ducking her head down.  He grinned.

  Like the baseball set, they could not reject any of them.  They wanted them all.  They wanted an album of each set, a larger print from each, and a couple of prints from each set for Scully’s mother.  Scully knew her mom would flip when she saw them.  She wondered if her mother was always so happy to see Mulder with her because she could see them as they were in the photos.  It was a nice thought.

  Mulder called Michelle the next morning to tell her how much they loved the photos, and what an excellent job she did.  He didn’t bat an eye when the final total was well over $2000; he knew good photography wasn’t cheap, so he’d made sure to call in the order himself.   He was positive Scully would’ve balked at the price.   As the call was coming to an end, Mulder again thanked Michelle for the wonderful job she’d done for them.

  “You know, just throwing this out there, but I also do wedding photography.  Just something to consider,” she playfully replied.  Mulder could hear the smile in her voice.

  Mulder’s heart suddenly pounded in his chest and his palms turned clammy.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.  After confirming that the finished photos would be delivered in two weeks, Mulder hung up the phone, Michelle’s suggestion still echoing in his brain. 

  He was getting closer and closer to stopping the car.

\---

  The next week and a half went by as usual; nothing very exciting was on the radar.  Then, as Mulder had referred to them, the “bean counters” got an eyeful of the credit card statement from Hollywood, and the next thing they knew, an auditor was in the basement office, scrutinizing years of receipts.  The threat of closing the X-Files loomed over Mulder and Scully’s heads once again. 

  Then a voice from the past reached out to them.  The subject of Mulder and Scully’s first case together, Billy Miles, called to let them know that something was happening in Oregon, just like before.  They flew to Bellefleur almost out of spite, due to the financial scrutiny they’d faced for days.

  Scully became ill on the case and sought comfort in Mulder’s room.  They crawled into bed and he held her close.  Mulder decided that the car was stopping immediately.  He told her to go home; there was so much more in life for her than chasing lights in the sky with him.  Naturally, she objected, and he hated upsetting her, especially when she wasn’t feeling well.  He wanted her to go back, he’d finish whatever needed to be done on the case, then he could tell her what had been on his mind.

  Before he had the chance, Skinner convinced him to return to Oregon, as there actually _was_ some validity to the case.  Mulder put his foot down; he refused to let Scully go.  She’d been ill, and it was far too dangerous, especially once he’d realized that abductees like Scully were being taken.

  Then the world flipped sideways.

\---

   Scully found herself hospitalized after her illness caused her to faint.  She was released from the hospital only to find herself in another one a week later, battered, pregnant, and alone.  Mulder was missing, and they’d assigned the irritating agent who was supposed to find him, the one who lied to her face and tried to make her believe she didn’t know Mulder at all, _that_ man was now going to be part of the X-Files.  There was just too much information for her to process.

  When she was finally released and cleared to go home, she stopped by the Hoover building.  She wanted to be near Mulder, even though he wasn’t physically there.

  She felt eyes on her from all directions as she solemnly walked down the hall to take the elevator down to the basement.  _Keep it together, Dana_ , she kept telling herself.

  Scully became nauseated when she saw agents tearing apart their office.  After raising hell about it with Skinner, the agents were finally made to leave.  Once they’d cleared, she sat in Mulder’s chair and stared at the pencils stuck in the ceiling.  Her eyes drifted down to the poster, then over to the bookcase.  Miraculously, the framed photo of her and Mulder was still hanging.  She battled fiercely against the urge to cry.  Scully rubbed her fingertip absentmindedly across the top of the nameplate on Mulder’s desk.  Her eyes, unfocused, stared at the spot on the wall over the bookcase until everything went blurry.

  She didn’t know how long she’d sat there like that, but once she finally snapped out of her daze, she stood up and approached the bookcase.  The photo was well out of her reach.  She pushed over a chair without wheels, and was then able to retrieve the photo that Mulder once hung so proudly.  She rearranged items on top of the bookcase and hung a plaque where the photo was, so there wouldn’t be an obvious blank spot on the wall that would arouse even _more_ suspicion from those agents.  She also had no desire to be grilled about the photo from Agent Doggett, since he would soon be joining her in the basement.  She took the photo home for safekeeping and kept it in her nightstand.  It was too painful to look at it, but she still wanted it nearby.

  The next week was hazy for Scully.  She functioned on autopilot, not really ready to be out in the world.  She was in the lobby of her apartment that Thursday, numbly headed towards the front door, when she heard her name.

  “Dana!  Hey, Dana, hold on for a second!”

  She turned and saw her landlord.

  “I noticed you’ve been away, so I’ve been keeping another package that was delivered to you.  Hold on, and I’ll get it.”  Her landlord rushed to get her package before her grieving brain even made the connection of what it might be.

  Her landlord tottered back out to the lobby, holding a large grey box, with two smaller boxes of diminishing size, cream and grey, bound by twine to the first.  When he got closer, she saw Michelle Taylor’s logo on the largest box and felt weak in the knees.

  “Are you in a rush?  This is too much for you to carry.  I’ll follow you up to your apartment and drop it off for you,” he offered.

  She forced a weak smile.  “That’s very nice of you.  Thank you.”  She hoped she didn’t sound too robotic.

  Back in her apartment, she had her landlord leave the boxes in a far corner.  She was not ready to go near them yet.  She knew that she was leaving the apartment earlier, but could no longer remember where she’d been going.  She realized she didn’t care.  She took off her shoes and sat back on her couch, trying to quiet her brain.  She’d almost dozed off when there was a knock at her door.

  She considered not answering, but got up with a frustrated sigh and went to the door.  It was her landlord.  _What now?_

  “I’m so sorry to bother you again, Dana, but I realized earlier that when I got your delivery, I’d forgotten that there were actually two.  I brought it up here for you,” he said.

  Scully noticed that his hands were empty.  “Two?” she managed.

  Her landlord pulled another large box into the doorway.  He’d been resting it against the wall.  It wasn’t another grey box; it was wrapped in simple butcher paper.  Her address was handwritten on a stationery envelope taped to the front.

  “Do you want it with the others?” asked the landlord.

  “No… No.  If it isn’t too heavy, you can just lean it against the couch.  Thank you for making another trip,” she said with another forced smile.

  “Not a problem at all, Dana.  Sorry again to bother you.  I’ll be on my way now,” he said.  She nodded, and he left her to the empty apartment full of boxes she couldn’t bear to open.  She took the envelope off the new delivery and returned to the couch.

 

  _Ms. Scully,_

_You and Mr. Mulder have not seen this image.  I kept it out of the proofs I sent you because I wanted it to be a surprise.  It was exactly what I’d envisioned in my mind when I invited you to the beach.  It is my gift to you.  I hope you enjoy it._

_Best Wishes,_

_Michelle Taylor_

 

Scully held the note in her lap, the hollow feeling inside her body stretching down to her toes.  It was incredibly thoughtful of Michelle to send a surprise, but the timing could not possibly have been worse.  That wasn’t _her_ fault, of course; she had no way of knowing that Scully’s current reality was lifetimes away from the one she lived in Virginia Beach.

  She stared at the long wrapped package leaning against her couch, and debated the pros and cons that came with it.  She couldn’t bear to look at the other set of delivered photos because she knew they would be too painful.  She knew this one would be, too.  But this was one _she hadn’t seen_.  Could she withstand even _more_ pain to sate her curiosity?  She wished she could have a glass of wine before she made a decision, but that option was eliminated once her pregnancy was confirmed.  She looked down at her still-flat abdomen.

  “I can’t drink because he’s gone because I can’t drink because you’re here,” she half-heartedly told the occupant of her womb.  She let out a mirthless chuckle, shook her head, and made her decision. 

  She retrieved the package, puzzled by its weight, once lifted.  It wasn’t heavy as she’d expected it to be.  She returned to the couch and held it across her lap, staring thoughtfully at the wrapping as she allowed herself a last-second out, if needed.

  _Be strong, Dana.  You can do this._

  Inhaling softly, she began to unfasten the tape securing the package.  It was protected by a thick border of Styrofoam on all sides.  Scully detached the thin sheet of cardboard from it, closing her eyes as she removed the last barrier between her and the gift.  She bit her lower lip and knit her brow – _Why are you afraid, Dana?_   She opened her eyes, gasped, and immediately brought her hand to her mouth.

  It was longer than it was tall; oversized, like something designed to hang over a couch.  It was printed directly onto a sheet of metal, accentuating the vivid colors of the beach sunrise and the ocean.  Most of the photograph was water, the gentle waves reflecting the glorious explosion of color as the sun woke over the beach.  The waves lapped onto the sand in the right third of the photo, swirling around Mulder’s bare feet in the tide.  Scully’s feet were also bare as she stood tiptoe on the beach where the water met the sand, facing Mulder in the golden light of the morning. 

  She remembered Michelle instructing Mulder to support Scully as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.  Michelle had exclaimed, “Yes!  Perfect!!” as the tide just reached Scully’s toes as she clicked the shutter.  The finished version was just lower legs and feet, sand and ocean tide, but the beauty of it all stole Scully’s breath when she saw it.

  _“This is_ us _, Scully,”_ Mulder’s awed voice whispered in her memory.

  She prayed that one day, they’d be again.

**Author's Note:**

> I first noticed the photo in the office during "Rush," but it was gone post-"Requiem," when Doggett was added to the X-Files. 
> 
> I also knew I'd eventually work photography into a story at some point. :)


End file.
